


The Ties That Bind

by iwtv



Category: Black Sails
Genre: M/M, Power Play, Then smut, chair kink, heavy teasing, lots of feelings first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7524382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After 3x10. James wakes up tied to a chair. Silver decides it's a good opportunity to address his feelings about Gay James. Gay James gets angry. Silver then decides to take the opportunity to explore other possibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ties That Bind

It took James a full minute to comprehend his hands were bound to the arms of a chair.

It was his chair, but not the tall, more eloquently designed one behind his desk. It was another one, used for guests that usually sat in front of his desk or off to the side. He sat in it from the left side of his cabin and facing inward. The ropes were thick rigging ropes and after a quick try he knew he would never be able to escape them by sheer use of muscle. In fact when he tried he found he was too drained to exert much energy at all.

He’d been drinking last night. More than usual. The men were still in constant celebration over their single victory against Rogers. He and Silver had decided to let them have their fun for a couple more nights before reining them in to plan their next move. So they’d gone hunting off the coast of the Queen’s island, which many of the men considered part of the celebration—a chance to claim a prize and all the valuables on board after so much time spent away from true pirating.

Silver. James suddenly remembered he’d been with him late last night, well after James should have quit drinking.

“There you are, alive and well,” came the quartermaster’s voice from behind. James strained to look over his right shoulder. Only when Silver stood could he tell that the younger man had been sitting on James’s bunk. He didn’t know if he was bothered more by being tied to a chair or the fact that the likely culprit was sitting quietly in the room with him still.

“What the fuck is this?” he snapped at Silver. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

Silver came around to face him, looking apologetic.

“I do apologize, but precautions had to be taken,” he said.

“Precautions against what?”

“You were very intoxicated last night, and when you made to go to your bunk, you…heaved once.”

Silver leaned against James’s desk, in no hurry to untie him.

“I considered saying ‘fuck it’ and leaving you,” he continued, “but then I remembered the story of how one of the officials at Saint John’s Orphanage had gotten drunk, passed out, threw up, and then choked to death on his own vomit.”

James made a sound somewhere between a snort and a laugh. He glared up at Silver.

“And you thought to save me from the same fate by lashing me to a chair. How fucking thoughtful.”

“It was, actually,” said Silver brightly, not goaded in the least by his captain’s sarcasm.

James was still struggling not to unleash a litany of curses at Silver, but he knew that was not likely to encourage Silver to unite him so he held back. Instead he let out a sigh. Being this irritated upon waking up with a hangover was simply too much. He glanced around the floor but saw neither a bucket nor any indication that he’d heaved up his drink on the floor, nor was there anything staining his shirt.

“I take it I did not regurgitate,” he said.

A twinkle of a smile appeared under Silver moustache.

“No. You did not.”

“Right then. If you wanted to humiliate me for my drinking, congratulations, you’ve done so. Now untie me.”

James expected him to comply or to at least throw more sarcasm his way, but instead Silver’s face seemed to drop. James recognized the somber quality in his eyes that meant something profound was in the works. Silver pulled up the third chair in the room, the mate to the one James sat in. He sat it down with a soft thud in front of James and eased down into it, almost as well as a man with two legs.

“Before I do,” said Silver, “and at the risk of being thrown overboard once I do let you lose, I think we ought to clear the air between us.”

James felt his ire stoked even more now. A dull throbbing was at the back of head. Still, he tried to stay patient, thinking on all the little ways, day by day, he could punish Silver for this once he was free.

“I thought everything was made clear the night before the battle,” said James.

“It was. For a time,” replied Silver. His expression was soft but intense, a look that always drew James in even though he knew what followed was usually an inquiry to James’s personal thoughts. Thoughts which, he was forced to admit, were becoming less and less personal because he kept sharing them with Silver.

“You told me about the Hamiltons and your relationship with them, how it was England ruined you back then,” he began.

And here it was again, that singular, rising feeling in James’s stomach that Silver could create in him, like reaching the top of an enormous mountain right before taking a leap of its edge.

“And I expressed my empathy about it,” said Silver. “But…”

Silver paused, as if searching for the right words. His tongue flicked out over his lips. James watched the motion too closely for his own good.

“But what?” James asked in a low voice, convinced the response would send him careening off the metaphorical cliff’s edge.

“But you never once asked about what I thought of it, your relationship with…Thomas Hamilton.”

He’d stuttered over the name like a boat stuttering over short, choppy waves, unsure of its landing. James felt his stomach drop slightly. He eyed Silver and Silver gazed at him evenly but also softly. Too softly.

“I didn’t realize I should have,” James said after a beat. “You didn’t react in abject horror. You never denounced me as a sodomite, so I didn’t find it necessary to inquire further.”

Silver gave a mirthless chuckle, his face sour as he leaned back in the chair, looking defeated.

“You’re telling me you aren’t the least bit curious as to what I think of it? Truly think of it?” he asked in earnest.

James sighed. He was tired and his head hurt. And the rope was chaffing his wrists. Yet when he looked up at Silver again it all managed to fade back into minor irritancies. There was a genuine need there. Silver’s blue eyes were wide and almost liquid. There was a single bead of sweat running down his tanned chest. Without meaning to James followed it until it soaked into the cord of his necklace. He looked away.

“If it matters that much to you, then just tell me what you think, for fuck’s sake,” he said at last.

Silver seemed poised to do just that, leaning forward again, but then his eyes fell.

“No. I only thought it might matter to you. Forget it, then.”

Silver pushed himself out of the chair with only a small groan and bent over to untie the rope over James’s right wrist. James watched him carefully, watched as his face harden until it was a mask again. Guilt stabbed at him, that he had taught Silver that lesson without meaning to, but James couldn’t deny the stab of something else jolting him, that the two of them were so similar now. Partners. Friends. Mates…

“Wait,” he heard himself say. Silver’s hand stilled over the ropes. He looked up at James through his brows.

“It does matter,” said James quickly, licking his dry lips and staring at the floor. “I do care…what you think,” he added, slower. “You know I do. But this…this subject matter…”

It felt like shards of glass were cutting his throat as he spoke. “It’s too painful sometimes, and I know what it means to get caught, and whatever you think about me now, I hope it doesn’t affect our ability to work together, at least on this ship…”

“James.”

He’d been rambling. James forced his mouth shut, the glass shards bringing unshed tears to his eyes. Why the fuck hadn’t Silver untied him? He wanted out of this damn chair, he wanted to be alone, he wanted…

A finger was covering his lips. James looked up at Silver.

“It’s all right. I don’t care,” he said, the closeness of voice sending a shock down James’s spine.

“I don’t care that you like men. It’s more than that, actually,” Silver continued. “In fact, I…”

His breath hitched suddenly, and the only warning James had was the way Silver’s eyes fell down to his lips a second before his mouth followed, covering James’s.

James opened his mouth to Silver and—Jesus, the feel of Silver’s wet and hot tongue crashing into his opened the rest of him up, ripping away what little strength he had to resist. His arms strained upward from their restraints, legs spreading out as far as the chair would allow as he felt Silver’s hands on his face, then pawing at the open ‘v’ of his shirt and further down. When Silver broke away to judge his reaction James only wished he could have hidden it, but he was panting now and could do nothing except look up at Silver, shocked to see his eyes heavy and his own chest heaving with sudden want.

Still, James felt he ought to try.

“No. We shouldn’t,” he said, stilling his heavy breathing and shooting his quartermaster his best ‘do-as-I-say’ look. It had the opposite effect.

“Fuck,” said Silver, moving in to assault his lips again, and again James took him, feeling as though he were letting an enemy batter down his door just so he could feel the final blow and welcome it with open arms.

Silver moaned and grabbed at his own crotch. James’s eyes followed the movement and saw the bulge forming underneath his pants.

“Tell me you don’t feel this too,” Silver breathed out.

“No, don’t!” cried James, but Silver’s palm was already over his crotch and James bit back a moan. He was half-hard, too. The enemy had won.

“Untie me,” said James, his arms pushing against the rope again. He had no idea what he would do once he was free, and that thought terrified him as much as it excited him. But Silver shook his head.

“No,” he said flatly, shrugging out of his long coat and dropping it on the floor, then sitting down to take off his real boot.

James struggled hard against the chair, until its legs lifted off the floor.

“I know that worked for you once before,” said Silver. “But that chair was much lighter and older. These chairs are made out of a heavy oak, I believe, and are not as old.”

There was a mischievous gleam in his eye that James both hated and adored.

“You fucking shit,” he muttered.

Grinning openly now, Silver untucked his shirt and threw it off as well. James would have risked being blinded rather than turning away from the sight of Silver’s body, chest and stomach tinged with just enough sweat to make it gleam, his muscles tight and firm looking.

James screwed his eyes shut. “Fuck.” His heart was racing in his chest, headache forgotten. Silver was over him again, dropping his belt to the ground and pulling out his cock. James caught only a glimpse of it before Silver was kissing him again, this time moving his lips down to his throat and sucking over all his soft spots until James groaned and tipped his head back over the chair.

“John…” he breathed, feeling his cock begin to ache. He was fully erect now but still tucked inside his pants.

“Soon,” said John, rubbing his hand over James’s crotch and moaning at what he felt there but also making the strain even worse.

“Is this just because you know I like men?” James asked between huffs of breath.

“No, it’s because I like *you,*” Silver corrected, biting on the tip of his ear and pulling. James thrust his hips up. Silver had his good leg planted between James’s knees, but the contact wasn’t enough. His wrists burned from the rope but he kept struggling, unable to direct his mounting sexual tension anywhere else.

John kept kissing and sucking at him, his hands especially concerned with James’s chest and shoulders, which he favored the most. Then he started rubbing his cleft over James’s upper leg, close to his crotch so that James felt every inch of John’s hardened manhood bobbing against him.

“See what you do to me,” said John. James wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab the ass that rolled up and down over his leg so sensually, like a cat.

“Fuck John, let me free,” James begged at last, devoid of any other strategy.

“Not yet,” said John. “But I will free you another way.”

And John unfastened James’s trousers. James bucked out of the chair so John could pull them down far enough for James’s cock to bob free. James groaned loudly and threw his head back at the release.

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled.

John muttered similar curses. James heard him panting. He looked down to see John claim the base of his cock with a hand and pull up over his shaft. The look on his face was almost enough to make James come. John’s eyes were heavily lidded, his lips wet and wanting as his glanced up to James.

“Captain,” was all John said, and James moaned, unbelievably aroused by the look in Silver’s now almost black eyes. It suddenly occurred to him he was not without power in this situation. He no longer had an intellectual power or power of fear over John, but perhaps he could exert a sexual power instead.

“How long?” he asked.

John blinked, pulling slowly over James’s cock and looking mesmerized by it.

“What?”

“How long have you wanted me?” James clarified.

“Since…since I don’t fucking know. Since your hand brushed over mine to give me water after my leg. Since you grinned at me that first time with no malice or hate. Since you laughed and said ‘Again’ after catching that shark. I don’t fucking know.”

His voice had turned into a whisper as he pulled James’s cock. James fought hard not to moan. Already precum was seeping out his slit. John’s words had almost made him swoon. Christ. He’d known—if he was completely honest with himself—that John had been interested at some point. But it mattered little at the time; he had never dreamed anything would ever come of it. But now, to know not only that the other man was interested, but that John was like *this,* with this complete and utter need for him…it left James mentally numb.

He thrusted his hips up again and John licked his head, eyes closing. John was his and he was John’s, but John was *his.*

“Take off your boot and pants, now,” said James.

John hesitated for the first time, drawing back to look at him. James met his gaze evenly, though he knew his own eyes were heavy.

“Do it,” he said, leaving no room for argument in his tone. It was like adding fuel to the fire. John’s eyes lit up and he bit his bottom lip. He scooted his chair closer to James’s and sat down in it, taking off his prosthetic in what James assumed had to be record time. He smiled to himself at that. John pulled off the rest of his pants.

“Now come here,” James ordered.

John obeyed, pushing himself out of his chair and half falling over James, catching himself with cat-like grace so that he stood between James’s legs with his good leg and settled into James’s lap.

“You think you get to command me, do you?” he asked brazenly, rubbing his cock against James’s.

“It’s all you’ve allowed me to do,” replied James. “You could gag me, but even if you did, and even if you put my cock inside your ass, I could still refuse to fuck you.”

John hesitated again and James wanted to squeal in delight. John narrowed his eyes, fingertips playing with both their cocks almost absent-mindedly.

“You’d do it too, wouldn’t you?” he asked. “Just fucking sit there, like a knot on a log and make me kill myself for pleasure?”

“And I’m betting I would be more than a little irritable, with only one good leg,” James added smoothly so that John scowled down at him. Then his scowl faded and he grinned again.

“Then I’ll just make it so that you’ll be begging me. Look at you, you’re leaking already,” he said adjusting so he could bend down and lick another dribble of precum from James’s cock, making it twitch.

Still James didn’t consider that a defeat.

“Do your worst,” he said.

And so John began grinding over him, taking both their cocks in his hand and pulling on them extremely slowly. Then he let go of James’s and pulled on his own, simulating riding James. James let his eyes wonder around the room, focusing here and there so as not to become too overwhelmed by John’s machinations. But John’s tongue made it difficult, traversing every inch of James’s exposed skin and creating its own little dance wherever it went, until James was fairly certain he was wet all over.

Then John leaned his weight onto his good leg and gripped the arm of the chair. He reached behind himself, fingers going towards his ass. James clenched his teeth together to keep from moaning as John opened himself up. John’s brows furrowed in concentration, eyes gazing over James’s head, and James watched his face until it softened and he let out a moan. Eagerly James looked down to where John’s arm muscles bulged ever so slightly from the effort. He swallowed hard.

John took his fingers out and put them at James’s lips. James could smell the sweet musk there. He opened his mouth and wiggled his tongue over the fingers, closing his mouth and sucking hard so John hummed softly in the back of his throat. He pulled away.

“I’m not going to fuck you until you untie me,” he repeated.

John scowled again, or at least tried to, but he was too aroused for his face do to anything more than looking wanting down at his captain. Despite James’s words John took hold of his cock and angled it between his ass and pressed down. James inhaled sharply, pushing his body hard against the back of the chair and trying not to moan. John worked himself down over James’s cock, face screwing up slightly, before he was able to slide all the way down, impaling himself.

“God damnit,” he muttered. “You feel amazing.”

James bit his tongue to keep from sharing the sentiment. He remained as stiff as a board, refusing to move at all for John. John moved himself up and a down a few times, using the arm chair for leverage, but as James had predicted the strain was great and he grunted with the effort. James watched his jaw clench, eyes flying open angrily. It lit up a hot spark of heat from deep in James’s gut.

John held his gaze and tried again, managing some pleasure, but James sensed his growing impatience. Truth be told, James was dying to fuck his brains out. But he would never say it first.

“James, damn you,” John huffed out, rollicking his ass back and forth. James had to close his eyes and bite his tongue. His breath was heavy but he kept his mouth closed.

John’s lips were on his, hard and painful and trying to gain entry. James fought against him with every ounce of restrained energy he could muster. Then John bit his lip, pinching it so he hissed and cursed, then tasted warm salt and iron.

John looked down at him as though it were a victory, but James merely said, “Untie me.”

James held his gaze, still not moving, and at last John relented. He pulled himself off of James’s cock and twisted so he could snatch up his belt from the floor and pull out a knife. He cut the ropes over both of James’s wrists. James remained still as John put the knife back and dropped his belt again. When he turned to look at James, James made his move.

A flash of fear danced behind John’s eyes as he rose from the chair, both hands clasping John’s waist. He shifted his position so that he wasn’t ramrod straight anymore, giving his hips and legs more freedom. He watched with delight as pure surprise registered on John’s features at the fact that he was still keeping them in the chair—and that he meant to fuck John the same way.

“You,” John said and stopped, unable to manage anymore. John seated himself once more and together they joined bodies. This time James fucked him.

John wrapped his arms around his captain’s neck, holding on while James spread out John’s slick cheeks and rammed his cock into his ass.

James hadn’t realized how close to climax he already was. The instant he started fucking John the pleasure spiraled through his entire body. He gasped quietly, mouth hanging open as he looked up into his quartermaster’s face. John was also nearly wrecked, his long, inky hair damp and clinging to him in all the right ways. He moved in and James kissed him with adrenaline-soaked fire, holding back nothing. John moaned loudly in response. He let his body pull back against James’s, pushing himself down over James’s cock. James rocked hard into him, feeling the pressure mounting already. He could hardly stand this, it felt so fucking good…

He stood, clutching John’s ass while John clung tighter to him, their bodies still connected. James spread his legs wide for balance and slammed hard into John, a high keen escaping over his lips at the sensation of it. John had his head thrown back, a look of pure bliss on his face.

James came hard, shooting up inside John as deep as he could go. John moaned and removed one hand from James’s neck, his other clutching to James even tighter as he jerked his own cock, then came over James’s chest and throat. James rocked him through it. At some point their eyes met, and he saw his own reflection in John’s huge black pupils, utterly destroyed in a way he hadn’t been since Thomas.

When they had both cleaned and dressed, James moved to sit behind his desk, ready to continue mapping out the Queen’s island—alone—but John lingered. It was then he realized John was staring at his wrists. James raised one off the desk. The dry parchment stuck to it and came off bloodied. For the first time he saw that both wrists were swollen and bleeding.

John was coming over with a cup of water and a rag.

“It’s all right, I can do it myself…”

“Shut up,” he said quietly. James said nothing and let him dab at the wounds. James winced as the cool water touched his raw skin. John paused. He looked up at James through his brows and James shivered.

“It’s the least I can do,” said John. “I’m sorry. I should have untied you sooner.”

“Perhaps. But I don’t regret it,” replied James. John looked up at him in earnest.

“Don’t regret being bound so long or don’t regret…everything else?”

“I don’t regret any of it, nor should you.”

James waited, watching him closely as John processed the revelatory information. There was still a small chance that John would internalize his behavior and start to hate himself. James knew so many men did.

He had done the same, once. Before Thomas.

But to his relief John smiled up at him.

“Very well, captain. I regret nothing. And I never will again.”

The sentiment was meant to please and comfort him, but James read much more into it. He had to wonder if even John realized the extent of his own words. He suspected he did. It sent a different kind of shiver down James’s spine. Yet despite everything, he relaxed, more in awe of John and his transformation into the man before him than anything else. He pushed the gnawing fear that kept trying to creep into his consciousness back down. He couldn’t pinpoint it, not yet, and he did not want to. For now, he just wanted to bask in whatever this was between them.

For now.

***


End file.
